


Ripples in fabric

by DiDaydreamer



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Erections, Hand Jobs, Infidelity, Late at Night, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:25:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1885086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiDaydreamer/pseuds/DiDaydreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late at night fueled by whiskey Chandler discovers that Miles is rather large in some areas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ripples in fabric

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [摺痕](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478281) by [DiDaydreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiDaydreamer/pseuds/DiDaydreamer), [Shingo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shingo/pseuds/Shingo)



Miles' posture is relaxed, tipped back against the cushions of the sofa, legs spread open, and the half-empty (or is it half-full?) tumbler of whiskey held by the rim is carelessly sliding softly against the inside of his thigh. Creating ripples in the fabric of his trousers that Chandler can't stop following with his eyes. First sliding down towards his knee, then sliding slowly up towards the bulge of his cock. It's rather hypnotizing. Chandler wonders if he is hard because of the pleasurable sensation of the smooth glass so close to his prick, or if his sergeant is that thick and long at all times. He has never had a reason to take notice before. He does not have a reason to notice now either he reminds himself with a small shake of his head. Dragging his eyes up to meet Miles' amused smile.

“Everything al-right boss?” 

His voice is thick with both fatigue and the effect of the whiskey. Hair ruffled, shirt rumpled and his countenance looking so welcoming that Chandler is half a second away from taking him up on an offer that has not been uttered except for in Chandler's imagination.

“Yes, I'm fine, just tired”

Miles nod, a small smile still at the corner of his lips as he swallows what is left in his glass. He lowers the glass back to his inner thigh, going back to creating ripples in the fabric.

The quiet between them stretch on for a few more seconds, a few more seconds of Miles creating ripples in the fabric close to the bulge of his cock and Chandler pretending that he is not looking, before the silence is broken. 

“What are you thinking about boss?”

Miles voice is low, the question breathed out soft and curious. 

He could tell the truth, Chandler thinks. There is an undefinable 'something' in the atmosphere between them and the late hour that would make it acceptable. They could allow themselves this tonight. He reach out to cover Miles' hand on the glass, stopping him as he is sliding it upwards, close to Chandler's object of interest. He does it before he can give the action any more thought, before he can remember all the reasons for why this is not a good idea. 

Miles' hand under his is warm, as is the rest of him, Chandler can feel it from all the spots where he is pressed against the other man. Hip to hip, and Miles' trouser covered leg under Chandler's wrist. Now Chandler is the one creating ripples in the fabric of Miles' clothing. 

He plucks the tumbler from Miles hand, sliding it the rest of the way up his inner thigh. Until the warmed up glass rest against the bulge of Miles' cock. He slides the glass slowly from side to side, making the dark trouser fabric ripple and stretch across Miles' thick cock. The sergeant spreads his legs to give Chandler more room. Chandler swallows at the display.

“You're quite large”

The statement is mumbled out in a rush before he can swallow down the words. 

Miles shifts in his seat, reaching out one hand to trace his fingers across the back of the hand Joe is holding the glass with. His breathing is becoming more laboured, but his posture is just as relaxed, if not more relaxed, with the way he is spreading his legs and leaning against Joe. 

“I suppose” He says quietly, looking up at Joe with pale grey eyes that are turning darker. He chuckles “Does it surprise you?” 

Joe lifts the glass slightly, sliding it from the edge of Miles' trousers, down across the length of his prick. Taking in the way his sergeant groans softly, and how his cock is beginning to grow hard. “No not surprised” he mutters “just, enjoying the way it looks” 

He puts the glass way.

He looks into Miles' eyes, dark with a quiet restrained kind of lust. Joe's hand hovering in the air just a few centimetres above Miles' cock. 

“May I?”

“Yes”

Miles is hot and thick under his palm and fingers, growing slowly harder as Joe caress him with curios touches. He wants more of his sergeant, quickly unzipping his trousers and cupping his thick hard cock with only the warm cotton of Miles' boxers as a barrier. Miles makes a small pleasured sound into Joe's shoulder as Joe tease the head of his prick and trace his fingers from tip to root. Joe sucks in a quick breath when he makes Miles whimper at a particular touch. His silver haired sergeant falling apart under his hand.

“Do you need more Miles?”

The question is breathed against the corner of Miles mouth.

“Yes boss, please”

With measured movements, Chandler frees Miles from the confinement of his boxers. Kisses Miles deep and proper as his hand close around the thick and heavy girth of Miles' fully erect cock. Making Miles groan and whimper into his kisses as he pleasure him.

“Mine” he whispers against Miles' lips. Slipping his other hand into Miles' hair. “You're mine” he mutters between small biting kisses to Miles' neck. Pulling at Miles to make the shorter man straddle his legs, caressing his large cock with possessive strokes. Looking at Miles' mouth, his hooded eyes, his messy hair and clothes, his large and hard cock in Joe's slender hand. “All mine, my sergeant” 

“Yours” Miles breaths out. His fingers are tangled in Chandler's shirt, and he is moving his hips in time with Joe's stokes to his prick. Perfect, Joe thinks, absolutely perfect. Miles' harsh breathing and obvious pleasure, his movements making ripples in the fabric of Joe's clothing, coming closer and closer to the edge. 

Miles gives him a half worried look. “Boss, I'm going too” Joe nods his understanding, pulling a folded handkerchief from his pocked. 

Miles is quiet when he comes, hands fisted in Joe's shirt. Chandler redress Miles, before pulling on his arm, bringing them chest to chest. Miles' breathing relaxed and even against Joe's shoulder, and Joe running his hand up and down Miles' back.

They fall asleep like this. Waking up early next morning to tangled limbs, and only a small flutter of regret.


End file.
